


Evolution of the Souls

by damncherik, hunterpond



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Erik and Charles can't catch a break, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Major Character Injury, Murder, Past Drug Use, Post-X-Men: Days of Future Past, Reincarnation, Slow Build, Temporary Character Death, Time Skips, Violence, lots of deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damncherik/pseuds/damncherik, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterpond/pseuds/hunterpond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-seven years after Professor X's and Magneto's deaths, the X-Men have moved on taking care of the school, while Mystique leads the new Brotherhood. However, as Logan saw on the street a man that looks exactly like the young late Professor, both mutant groups will discover that history is just one more variable they can't control, nor predict.</p><p>MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS NOT PERMANENT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story was co-written with my bestie Ká. We are not responsible by any tears, rage outbursts, sobbing attacks or any other emotion that might get us killed for writing this. The timelines on this story follow historically accurate events. Thank you for choosing to read it. We'll make sure you won't regret it.

_December. England._

_The year was 1779, and the White Plague had spread across the bleak and fertile fields of the British Empire. No one knew where it came from, but it had taken approximately a thousand victims on the county of Briston. It started with a simple cough, and light chest pain, making the population dismiss it as the occasional flu. However, when the mucus turned into blood, and the fever made its appearance, no soul could have predicted the disastrous consequences._

_He could hear the high pitched sound of his sister’s heels as they echoed through the wooden floor of the stairs. In a flash, a tall bundle of blue eyes and blonde curls was throwing itself at him. Charles wrapped his arms around Rachel’s shoulders as she sighed in relief._

_“I heard about the fire in the hospital.” She said quietly. “There were very few survivors… I thought-”_

_“I know, darling, I know. But I’m okay. It took a couple of hours to get here, because the streets were in full chaos.” He said as they parted from the embrace. “My only regret is not being able to save those sick people.”_

_Rachel smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek._

_“Oh, my dear brother. You are way too good for this miserable world we live in.”_

_She smiled and turned around, walking towards the house. He followed suit, when, suddenly, he could feel an itch at the bottom of his throat. Charles coughed and grabbed a tissue from his suit’s top pocket. The small drops of red on the white flannel caught his attention, and the realization sunk in like a wrecked ship on a stormy night._

_“Charles, are you alright?” His sister asked when she noticed he was standing still at the bottom of the stairs._

_He quickly put the tissue away in his trousers’ pocket, and gave Rachel a soft smile. “Go ahead, my love. I’ll be right in.”_

_She looked at him suspiciously for a few more seconds before nodding, and walking inside the house. Charles closed his eyes and sighed. He would not be returning to the house tonight._

_Later, that day, he clang to the heavy trenchcoat around his body like it was made of gold. The temperature that spring was around 20 degrees Celsius, but he was feeling like it was on the negatives. As Charles walked (practically dragged himself) around the neighbourhood, he could hear some shouting coming from the jewelry store._

_His blue eyes scanned the commotion as a tall man with blonde hair holding a big black bag on his back came running at his direction. A quick breeze struck him as the stranger ran by his side. Charles turned around to watch as the man quickly ran through the heavy masses of people on the streets. The owner of the store – Mr. Wahs, he believed – ran as fast as lightning as he chased the blonde man across the streets._

_“Come back here, Lehnsherr!” He screamed._

_Charles turned around and continued his path towards the exit of the county as a gunshot rang on the distance. A few minutes later, he could see Mr. Wahs walking inside his store with the heavy black bag and blood spattered on his shirt._

_A few weeks later, the Xavier household would mourn the death of one of their own._

####

June, 2042. England.

“Wagner, I swear to God, that if I hear you reciting one more of those Bible verses, I’m gonna throw you off this jat.” Logan complained as he arranged himself on his seat.

He had been trying to take a nap for twenty minutes, but was always interrupted by one murmur of ‘ _love thy father and thy mother_ ’ or ‘ _thou shall not kill’_.

“Religious intolerance is illegal, y’know.” Rogue pointed out as she leaned against her husband’s, Bobby’s, chest.

“Shut up, kid.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I’m barely an adult. I’m 58.” She complained.

“You surely don’t look 58.” Bobby commented. Rogue rolled her eyes and punched him softly on the chest. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“Will you guys stay quiet?” Colossus complained “I’m the one piloting this damn jet on a freaking wind storm.”

“Just tell Nighthopper over there to shut his mouth.” Logan said.

“It’s _Nightcrawler_ , and you know it, _Wolferine_.” Kurt shouted on his thick German accent.

“Hey, listen here bub-”

“Oh my god, just shut the hell up!” Kitty shouted.

The rest of the trip was spent in complete silence with exception of Kurt’s Bible verses.

 

“Well, that went smoothly.” Kitty commented as the rest of the X-Men exited the collapsing building.

“Maybe because you weren’t the one who had a freaking column trying to smash you.” Bobby hissed.

Their mission had been a simple one. Jean had detected that some anti-mutant movement was planning on attacking the Royal London Hospital, that afternoon. The hospital had recently incorporated the new policy approved by the British Parliament, which stated that mutants were to receive equal medical treatment at European hospitals. A group of seven children from the local boarding school - three of which were mutants -, had been transported there after their school shuttle was involved in a pileup.

The ‘Humans First’ activists had planned on attacking the hospital and kidnapping the children, forcing the medical institution and the Parliament to revoke the guideline. Therefore, the X-Men had been sent to the activists’ temporary base a couple of blocks from the hospital to prevent the abductions peacefully. That was, until Mystique’s Brotherhood decided to make an appearance.

“Do I need to remind you on _whom_ the column fell?” Logan asked impatiently, as Rogue and Nightcrawler snickered. Bobby just rolled his eyes, and the group exited the alley to walk towards the last location of the jet. As they walked down the street, folk pop music could be heard from one of the pubs.

Colossus pulled out his personal PADD to start the mission report and send it to Storm. Since the Professor’s passing almost thirty years ago, Storm and Cyclops were running the school, and Jean coordinating the X-Men. At first, no one seemed to know what to do. Charles Xavier was loved by all students and X-Men alike, and even by those who weren’t officially part of their group, like Mystique. They were raised together, after all. It wasn’t an easy task, - honestly, none of them knew how the Professor handled it – but they managed it almost perfectly. And, now, the Xavier Institute is opening its third centre on the West Coast of the United States.

“Hey, how ‘bout we have a couple of drinks on that pub over there before we head back to the mansion?” Logan suggested.

“Dressed up like this? Sure. How about we write ‘mutants’ on our foreheads too?” Bobby joked, earning an smile from both Rogue and Kurt.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been there before. It’s a mutant friendly place.” He explained. “The worst insult you could get there is about how you’re dressed.”

Kitty and Colossus shrugged, and they all followed Logan inside the building. The inside smelled like vodka and scotch, with a hint of strawberries. Seven wooden columns supported the brownish dark ceiling, the latter which extended deep into the bar’s rectangular structure. A couple of pool tables stood at the left of the barista’s counter, both of which were fulfilled by mutants and humans of all kinds. As a dark skinned woman with pink eyes vacated her seat, Logan walked towards the counter, and gave the barista a sincere smile that creeped the hell out of Kitty.

“Matt, look at ya. You haven’t changed a bit in thirty years.” Logan beamed. The barista turned around and gave the Wolverine a big grin.

“Well, well, well. Haven’t the years been kind to you, Jimmy?” The barista – Matt, it seemed – replied.

“Jimmy?” Rogue asked smugly, earning an eye roll from Logan.

“Well, I do exercise a lot.” He remarked. “Matt, this is my team-”

“Excuse me, _your_ team?” Kitty intruded, but was ignored by Logan.

“Shadowcat, Rogue and Iceman.” Logan said as he pointed at them. Rogue and Bobby smiled, while Kitty just looked irritated. “And over there, we got Colossus and Nighthopper.”

“It’s _Nightcrawler_!” Kurt protested once again.

“Whatever.” Logan replied. “I was wondering if we could have a couple of drinks here, for the time being. Just celebrating a small thing.”

“I doubt that stopping a terrorist attack, and having a _building collapsing on us_ is a small thing.” Kurt pointed out.

“Quiet, hopper.” Logan ordered before facing Matt again.

“Well, aren’t you quite the team?” Matt exclaimed. “Don’t worry pal, I’ll have Miss Frost show you a table.”

As the turned around, they were welcomed by a tall figure with blonde curly hair and crystalline blue eyes.

“Frost? Are you related to an Emma Frost, by any chance?” Logan inquired.

“You mean my late aunt? Sure.” Miss Frost said in her Irish accent as she guided them to a wooden – what a surprise – circular table. “I’ll be bringing the blueberry round. Matt said you guys were celebrating.”

“Just scotch for me, my darling.” Logan stated.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” She informed as she walked towards the back of the counter.

“Meanwhile, I’ll light a cigar out there. Have fun with the techno noise you call music.” The regenerative mutant said as he walked towards the exit.

As he closed the backdoor, Logan took a deep breath and stared at his surroundings. The back of the bar ended up in an alleyway between it and the apartment building next to it. The corridors were filthy with garbage cans, wet newspapers and empty bottles of beer. Logan wrinkled his nose as a light smell of urine attacked it, and he decided to light his cigar. He took it from his pocket, put it between his lips and lightened it with a spare match he kept in his pocket. As he inhaled the tabaco, his muscles relaxed and Logan looked up at the sky above both buildings to admire the deep blue colour of the summer sky.

Being part of a group of mutants whom fought for peace and equality wasn’t actually his dream job, nor was it planned. Having to deal with a bunch of children – sorry, they were _adults_ now, as Rogue had pointed out – was not easy at all. Logan had never gotten attached to anyone, because that meant caring, and losing, and he was done having to deal with that. It was not until that snowy day when he met Rogue, and later on the X-Men, that he thought he would spend the rest of his life alone. Wandering about, thinking about what could have been, and what could be. But those kids- _adults_ changed that, Professor X changed that, and he wouldn’t trade any of it for anything in the world.

 _"_ Excuse me kid, but do you have a lighter I could borrow?" Logan asked the man beside him, right after he had stepped on his burnt cigarette.

"Of course." The man responded with a posh voice and an English accent, offering the lighter to Logan. However, it was not until he had taken the object from the English man's hand, did he look at his face, making Logan freeze on the spot.

"Charles?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The White Plague at the beginning of this chapter, makes a reference to the tuberculosis epidemia that killed millions of people around the world before a vaccine was found during the late 19th century. See you next chapter!


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damncherik and I are so damn sorry for not posting any more chapters for six months. She was very busy with college and I was overloaded with school. However, now, since both of us are getting a winter break, we will be posting the next few chapters soon, starting with this one. Again, we are truly terribly sorry. We hope you enjoy this.  
> THE TRANSLATION FOR THE SPANISH AND PORTUGUESE BITS ARE IN THE NOTES AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER.

_"Excuse me kid, but do you have a lighter I could borrow?" Logan asked the man beside him, right after he stepped on his burnt cigarette._

_"Of course." The man responded with a posh voice and an English accent, offering the lighter to Logan. However, it was not until he had taken the object from the English man's hand, did he look at his face, making Logan freeze on the spot.  
_

_"Charles?!"_

“Uh, yes actually, that's my name. Have we met before?” The younger man asked, as he eyed Logan with a reminiscing look on his face.

“N-Not quite. Although you do remind me of someone I knew.” Logan said softly as memories of the Professor flooded his mind.

“Those are beautiful memories.” Charles said, and smiled softly. “Of your Professor, I mean.”

“How do you know that? Are you reading my mind, by any chance?” Logan inquired, chuckling, even though he already assumed the answer. If all of this wasn’t a joke, and was actually for real- ‘ _It can’t be real, you idiot. He’s dead, you know this.’_ Logan knew this could not possibly be real, that this man standing in front of him could not possibly be Charles Xavier. He died years ago, he remembers his funeral vividly, and, yet, the man was like his copy. He knew he probably was going insane, and that this was probably a misunderstanding, but his instincts were telling him otherwise.

The other man looked startled for a moment, his eyes widening, like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked uncomfortable and turned around to leave, but Logan grabbed his wrist.

“Wait-” Logan shouted, but he could not finish his sentence as he was suddenly thrown against the alleyway. His back hit the brick wall, and he groaned in pain as he hit his head on the dirty concrete floor. He opened his eyes, to see Charles hovering over him, knelt down. He had a guilty look on his face, and his eyes looked intensely apologetic.

“I am _so_ sorry, my friend. Are you alright?” Charles asked nervously. Logan shrugged him off and positioned himself on his knees to get up as the smaller man gave him some space.

“‘M fine.” He said, as he ran his hand through the gash on his right temple.

“You’re bleeding, you are not fine! Can I-” But Charles did not finish his sentence as the bruise on Logan’s head started to close, healing itself. The man’s eyes widened again, and Logan sighed, but before he could continue, a female voice called his attention.

“Hey,” Rogue shouted in her half-English and half-French accent from the back door of the pub, as Logan looked in her direction. “Jean wants us back at the mansion. It seems important, so let’s go.”

“Let me just finish something here, kid.” Logan said. However, when he looked back in Charles’ direction, the man was gone. “ _What the fuck?”_

Wolverine walked towards the end of the alley, and into the streets, only to find no evidence at all of the presence of the younger man. He looked to one side and to the other, but among the ocean of people that crowded the paved roads, there was no sign of Charles anywhere. Logan looked down at the silver lighter on his hand, his thumb sliding over the engraved cursive writing on it, spelling the initials _M.E._.

Then, he turned around to bump straight into a very pissed off Rogue, and an annoyed group.

“What the hell happened, Logan?” She shouted furiously. Then, her eyes softened as she spotted dry blood on his temple. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” Then, he turned around and walked back to the jet, ignoring the looks of concern of his teammates as they followed him back home.

###

_Portugal. 1801._

_His muscles ached and his legs burned as Erik ran across the grassy fields, now covered by shades of crimson red. The metal of the gun inside his palms seemed to vibrate and hardly coincide with the reality around him that are the flying bullets and the sound of guns going off, mercilessly assaulting his ears. It seemed unbelievable that, just a few weeks ago, he was studying engineering at the University of Barcelona, finally making his mother proud, as she never got a chance to go to school like her children. Now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as he raced through the Fort of Graça in the town of Elvas alongside the other Spanish soldiers that remained, while avoiding the shots from the Portuguese army._

_The smell of iron and dirt was intoxicating, and Erik rushed to hide behind one of the small white houses at the northern border of the Fort. He inhaled deeply, crouching, and quickly removed the pin from of his grenades and threw it near the enemy force. Erik got up, when suddenly, something hit him in the leg, making him fall to the floor once again. He quickly crawled further away from the line of fire, leaning his back against the pristine white walls of the house.  Then, he ripped part of the sleeve of his dark blue shirt, and wrapped it around his wound, to stop the bleeding._

_However, as each second passed, the world around him seemed to start spinning, as the fabric around his leg got soaked in red and his vision darkened. Erik could hear careful footsteps calmly approach his position, but all his energy seemed to have drained out in a matter of minutes. Before the young engineer could reach for his gun, a young man with dark brown hair and the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen started to approach him. He was wearing the grey uniform of the Portuguese army, but the red cross sewed above the top pocket of his shirt gave away his position._

_"Está tudo bem, eu estou aqui para ajudar." The man said in Portuguese, and Erik could hear a faint accent from the sound of his voice. He eyed Erik's uniform and asked: "¿Cuál es su nombre, señor?"_

_"Erik." He managed to blurt out._

_"Me llamo Charles, y voy a cuidar de su herida, ¿toddo bien?". The man's Spanish was a little rusty, but Erik nodded and Charles started to remove the soaked piece of fabric from his wound, while he hissed in pain. Erik kept trying to stay focused while the other man worked on his injury, but as the pain increased and he lost more blood, the dizziness came back and it became harder and harder to keep his eyes open. The, Charles patted him softly on the cheek, making him raise his gaze in awareness._

_"Yo necesito que usted mantenga sus ojos abiertos, ¿si? Los mantiene abiertos y mira a mis ojos." Charles said calmly and, as Erik focused his green eyes on the other man's blue ones, all the pain seemed to disappear for a second._

_'Eu tenho que tirar a bala da perna dele.' Erik heard the other man say, but his lips did not move as he concentrated on stopping the bleeding._

_"¿Que dijó?" He asked, waiting for a translation, as his portuguese was never that good. However, all Charles did was give him a confused look._

_"Yo no dije nada." The man with the enchanting blue eyes said, and this time it was Erik's turn to look confused. "Yo tengo que remover la bala de su pierna." Charles continued._

_Then, Erik closed his eyes and put all of his concentration on his wound. He could feel each drop of blood squeezing out of his wound as Charles searched for the bullet inside of it. Erik could feel the vibrations the bullet's metallic structure was emitting, and he focused on it. Suddenly, it started to shift and move, and then, it slowly exited the woud on its own. Finally, it fell, soaked in red, into the grass. Erik let out a breath he did not even know he was holding, as Charles ceased to put pressure on the bleeding and looked at him in shock._

_"V-Você também?" Charles said, his hands shaking now._

_Erik was about to respond when a gunshot rang through the air and Charles fell to the floor on his back, with blood pouring out of his chest where his heart was. Erik's eyes never left Charles as he froze in place and the man chocked on his own blood for a few seconds before ceasing any movement abruptly. His cerulean eyes were still open, empty, gazing at the sky as Erik was hauled up by two pairs of strong hands. He looked up to meet the faces of what was left of his military squad, Janes and Salvador. As they scorted him away from Charles' body, his wound still pouring out blood, breathing became difficult and Erik's vision started to blur once again._

_The last thing he saw before everything went black, was a golden bullet, lying motionlessly next to the man with peaceful blue eyes._

_###_

Unknown Location. 2042.

The cloaked figure walked slowly towards the enormous residence, her heels echoing a 'clinking' sound against the concrete tiles of the garden. The leaves that lost the battle against the violent wind seemed to create a path behind her greyish light blue cloak as she approached one of the house’s giant french windows.

Her eyes were concealed behind the black lenses of her Rayban glasses, but she could see it all. The ants carrying leaves around her feet, the snapping of the weak tree branches against the powerful wind, the smiles of the special children inside the room in front of her. She could also see their hopes, their dreams, their pain and their deaths. It would all come together very soon now. The secret was revealed and her lips curved into a smile as she saw the fulfillment of the prophecy.

She ran her gloved hand through her brunette wavy hair and turned her back to the children and to their mentors inside the house. The noise from her heels seemed like a ghostly sound as the kids gathered around the window to confirm the presence of the hooded figure one of them had spotted a couple of seconds ago, right outside it.

The wind continued to blow strongly, ripping the leaves and flowers mercilessly from the trees they were attached to, seeming to portray the storm that was coming that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The flashback from this chapter is a reference to one of the conflicts between the Portuguese and the Spanish during the War of Oranges, in the Fort of Graça, located in the town of Elvas, Portugal.
> 
> 2\. The translation for the Spanish and Portuguese lines:  
> a) "Está tudo bem, eu estou aqui para ajudar." = It''s okay, I'm here to help.  
> b) “¿Cuál es su nombre, señor?” = What's your name, sir?  
> c) “Me llamo Charles, y voy cuidar de su herida, ¿todo bien?” = My name is Charles, and I'll take care of your injury, okay?"  
> d) “Yo necesito que usted mantiene sus ojos abiertos, ¿si? Los mantiene abiertos y mira a mis ojos.” = I need you to keep your eyes open, yes? Keep them open and fixed on mine."  
> e) ‘Eu tenho que tirar a bala da perna dele.’ = I need to remove the bullet from his leg.  
> f) “¿Qué dijó?” = What did you say?  
> g) “Yo no dije nada.” = I didn't say anything.  
> h) “Yo tengo que remover la bala de su pierna.” = I have to remove the bullet from your leg.  
> i) “Você também?” = You too?


	3. Chapter Three

Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester, NY. 2042.  
  
"I'm telling you, he was standing right there." Logan spat at Rogue as they walked towards Jean's study with Colossus, following the telepath's request.  
  
After entering the jet, he had spent the entire trip back trying to explain to the rest of the team exactly what he had seen. Kurt and Kitty seemed fascinated with it, while the rest of them just rolled their eyes and affirmed it must have been a mutant telepath that just happened to look a lot like the Professor. However, Logan was sure about what he saw. Of course, his memory never was the most reliable of his traits, after having much of it scrambled by brainwashing and time travel, but of this he was sure. He would just have to ask Jean to look inside his mind and confirm it.  
  
' _Come on in, Logan. We have much to discuss._ ' Jean Grey's voice suddenly rang out on his head as he, Rogue and Colossus opened her office's door.  
  
Scott and Storm stood next to her chair, where she sat browsing through the electronic and holographic database Hank had installed a few weeks ago. Her hair was still red as ever, except around her temples where it was whitening. Jean had barely noticeable wrinkles around her green eyes and cheeks, while she held her usual affective gaze towards her family. Scott's hair was greying too, but most of the brown remained on the top of his head, while his skin also showed signs of wrinkles. His eyes were still hidden behind his visor, but he did not have his usual smirk on. Storm did not look a day over her old age, except now her hair was fashioned in a white and grey mohawk.  She also looked deadly serious like Scott, with only Jean creating a contrast between the three with her loving smile.  
  
"Okay, shoot it." Logan stated as soon as he met their gazes.  
  
"What makes you think there is something wrong?" Storm inquired calmly.  
  
"Scott never fails to be his annoying self, and right now he's too quiet." He replied, earming a smirk from everyone except Scott, that just glared at him from behind his visor.  
  
"Straight to business, then." Scott said, still glaring at Logan but not refraining from giving him a small grin. He bent slightly over Jean's table, and then moved his hands in an opening motion on top of her holographic computer base. It expanded across the room, showing footage from the security cameras of the garden on the West Wing of the mansion. A woman wearing nothing but brown leather boots, a long blue cloak and sunglasses  stood outside the window of the History classroom, watching the students and smiling.  
  
"Wow, what a creep." Rogue pointed out.  
  
"You haven't seen the best part yet." Storm stated right before the woman in the video turned around and disappeared into thin air.  
  
"Oh."   
  
"Exactly." Jean said, retreating the holograms back into a small screen in front of her. "I could not find anything on her on our databases or on the human ones that Hank gave me access to. Nothing on Cerebro either."  
  
"It's like she is a ghost." Scott explained. "The cloak and sunglasses made it hard for us to get a shot of her face, but we gathered info that suggests she's on her early 30s, has brown hair and may have a visual disability due to the use of the glasses. They were identified off a line of Raybans made specially for blind people, where more than ten thousand were bought worldwide by blind women alone."  
  
"We put all of that and more into every record possible, but there is no concrete information at all on her, as if she doesn't exist at all." Storm completed.  
  
Logan, Rogue and Colossus exchanged worried looks before the discussion continued.  
  
"Were there any unusual traits about her, that suggest she may be a mutant?"  Pietr inquired.  
  
"That's the thing." Jean explained before showing them the detailed analysis of the footage. "We ran the images through a thermal scan, which proves she is at least human, but if you look closely here," She continued , pointing at the corner of the video where the classroom window is present. Suddenly, a millisecond after she disappears, a massive tree branch flies towards the window, shattering it. "it's like she could predict when the branch would hit her and disappeared."  
  
"Fortunately, no one got hurt. The force field stopped any broken glass from hitting the children, as well as the branch." Scott assured the team. "But all things considered, we could be dealing with a mutant. A powerful one."  
  
"Which is why we ask you not to tell the rest of the team yet." Jean finally completed. "We wish to gather more intel and discuss the threat level of this situation before alarming everyone else about it. If we are lucky enough, this woman may turn out to be an ally."   
  
Rogue and Colossus nodded slowly, contemplating the situation, while Logan stared intensily at the time stamp of the video on the top right corner of the screen.  
  
"It says this was at 3:04 PM, yesterday, right?" Logan asked, seeking confirmation, while the trio in front of him nodded. "It was right after Charles disappeared from the alley yesterday. I saw the display clock on the digital billiboard from the skyscraper across the street. It read 3:04:57 PM."  
  
"What is this about? " Storm asked curiously, while Rogue and Colossus rolled their eyes.   
  
"Logan claims that he saw a younger version of the Professor yesterday, outside a pub in London." Rogue responded.  
  
"I know what I saw, kid. He talked exactly like him, and even looked inside my mind." Wolverine responded, playing with the lighter he had forgotten to return to the telepath before he fled.   
  
"That only proves that he was a telepath that ressembled the Professor, nothing more." Rogue argued.  
  
"Logan," Jean said loudly, calling the attention of the two. "do you mind if I take a look?"  
  
"Not at all." He answered, walking to the other side of the room to stand next to Jean. She got up and gently placed her hands on her temples, closing her eyes. The team noticed something was wrong when Jean's expression became distressed and she began to groan softly.  
  
"Jean. Jean, what's wrong?" Scott asked worriedly, while placing a comforting hand on his wife's back. Then, the telepath opened her eyes gasping. She turned around and rapidly backed away from Logan, placing herself in Scott's arms, who hugged her.  
  
"What did you see?" Logan asked softly, while everyone glanced at her full of worry. Jean slowly turned around, facing him and her words rocked the rest of the team to their cores.  
  
"I didn't- there was _nothing_."  She whispered loud enough for them all to hear.  
  
"What?! What do you mean nothing?!" Logan demanded. "I did talk to someone, Jean." Then, he removed the lighter from his pocket and threw it on her desk. "He even left this behind."  
  
"I-I know, I know. I saw that. It did happen." She affirmed.  
  
"Then, how can you say you didn't see anything?"   
  
"Because I didn't see _him_." Jean affirmed strongly this time. "I could see you and the dirt on the floor and the blue of the sky, I could even feel you emotions, but when I looked for his presence there was nothing. I could see someone's form, but not their appearance or their mind, like an empty presence. It's like he was-"  
  
"A ghost." Scott completed, sighing and picking up the lighter from the wooden desk. He read the initials displayed on it before giving it to Storm.   
  
"Exactly." Jean confirmed.   
  
"So now we have three ghosts and no starting point." Rogue pointed out, analysing the lighter Storm had handed to her. "Fantastic."  
  
A silence was left hanging in the air as the members of the X-Men pondered on the recent occurances. Then, Logan grabbed the lighter from Rogue’s hand and walked away from the group towards the study’s double wooden doors.

“Logan,” Jean began, in a concerned tone. “where are you going?”

He opened one of the doors, clutching forcefully the silver object in his hand.

“If anyone would like to join me,” Logan spoke up, without turning around. “I’m going to find out what exactly is going here. Beginning with this.” He continued, presenting the lighter on his hand to the X-Men, before exiting the room and slamming the door shut.

###

 

Peckham, London, England. 2042.

Charles Xavier sighed as he closed the door to his flat, leaning against the doorframe. He ran his hand through his brown hair locks and strolled towards the kitchen to make some tea. The encounter he had with that man on the alley, a few days ago, was still monopolizing his thoughts, and his curiosity was quickly getting the best of him. Who was he? And how did he know his name?

The images he had gotten out of the man’s head, also contributed to his current anxious mood. Logan - the name he responded to - got him confused with an old friend of his, and, of course, there is no trouble in that. However, he knew now that he was one of the X-Men, the world’s major integrationist group when it comes to mutant rights. They were famous for their almost unfailable defense of mutants and humans alike, as well as their attempts to stop the Brotherhood’s mutant supremacist attacks. He recognized the man from Logan’s head as being Professor X, their old leader who had died decades ago, and was responsible for founding the remarkable institute for mutant children in the U.S. Charles had read all about them, and he admired their ideals, however, the more he analysed the images and feelings from Logan’s head, the stronger this twisted feeling in his gut became.

Additionally, as the debate about the future of mutants within human society continued, many people started to become more accepting of them. Public and private working sectors now were employing more mutant officers, depending on their mutations. Most schools now accepted mutant children, and even cinematic representation grew, as the media started to embrace them into their market. However, mutant hatred amongst conservative humans still outweighted this general acceptence, specially after the popularity of the ‘Humans First’ faction gained a boost after the Brotherhood’s latest attack on a local hospital. There had been a raise in the number of kidnapping, torture and murder cases involving mutant citizens lately in London, and though there has been no evidence yet to support this theory, Charles knew the human supremacist group had something to do with it. Therefore, he couldn’t help but freak out and run after he found out who Logan was. Of course, he didn’t expect his powers to get out of control at that exact time either, but hopefully, no one other than Logan saw him.

Charles was snapped out of his thoughts as the kettle in front of him started to screech and let him know that the water was fully boiled. He turned off the oven and, with a cloth, carried the kettle towards the kitchen’s balcony to pour some hot water into his favourite mug and drink his tea. Suddenly, this strong pain around his lower back assaulted him and Charles almost dropped his mug and the kettle. He got up, hissing in pain, and walked up the stairs to the lavatory on the second floor. He turned on the lights and opened the cupboard, grabbing the small bottle of painkillers his orthopedist had prescribed. Finally, Charles walked back to the kitchen and swallowed two of them with his tea.

These chronic back pains had started around the same time he gained his telepathy at age nine. At first, his mother told him it was probably only growth pain, but after he turned twenty, and the pain continued, he went to the hospital to see what was causing it. However, his physician could not find a source for his problem, and ended up giving Charles a prescription for painkillers he had to renew every six months. It wasn’t ideal, but one pill kept the pain at bay for at least a week.

Charles sighed again, and finished his tea. Then, he heard the front door opening, and all his nervousness seemed to drain away as Erik walked into the kitchen. He was still wearing his work clothes, and his white apron was stained with food stains. His roommate and fianceé dumped his leather bag next to the kitchen’s doorway and walked towards Charles, kissing his temple and embracing him.

“Tough day?” The telepath asked, earning only a groan from the taller man.

“The restaurant was full today.” Erik explained, ending the hug and placing Charles’ empty mug inside the sink. He intertwined his fingers with Charles’, positioning his other hand on the other’s waist and pulling him closer.

“How were the kids, today?” Erik asked, as Charles played with the hairs at the back of his neck.

“You know how kids are.” He said, smiling. “Erratic, but lovely. Karen’s anxiety was troubling her because she’s leaving London soon, and was worried no one would like her at the new school.”

“And you calmed her down?”

“I always do.” He assured Erik. “She’s pretty excited about it now, but she says she’s going to really miss me as her school therapist.”

“I would really miss you too if I had to move away from you.” Erik said, earning a grin from Charles.

“Would you, huh?”

“Yup.” The chef affirmed.

“If we were separated, right now, never to see each other again,” Charles proposed hesitantly. “what would be your last love gesture?”

Erik smiled and pulled his soon-to-be husband even closer, pressing their lips together softly. They slided over each other smoothly, and Erik’s tense form relaxed as his tongue traced over Charles’ and he pressed him against the kitchen counter. His fingertips left Charles’ hand to delicately trace ghostly motions on the man’s right cheek, as he pulled Erik even closer, their noses brushing against each other gently. Then, Charles pulled away slowly, so they could both breathe. Blue eyes met green as they rested their foreheads together. Erik caressed Charles’ cheek with his thumb, whereas the smaller man smiled at him softly.

“After that,” Erik continued. “I would tell you how much I love you.” Suddenly, he gave Charles a quick kiss. “And how much I always will love you,” Kiss. “until the end of my days.” Another kiss.

Finally, the telepath’s smile widened and he got on his tiptoes to whisper on Erik’s ear one final sentence before sealing their lips together once again: “Until the end of _our_ days, darling.”

  
###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No flashbacks on this one, but lots of X-Men and Cherik :)  
> For future reference:
> 
> 1\. This is Erik and Charles' flat: http://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-to-rent/property-53081474.html
> 
> 2\. This is the restaurant where Erik works as one of the minor chefs: http://www.timeout.com/london/restaurants/no-67
> 
> 3\. This is the school where Charles works, as a child therapist: https://www.schoolguide.co.uk/schools/ilderton-primary-school-london
> 
> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed this story so far, or comments with any questions, opinions or suggestions. See you next chapter!


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